a few minutes after four. He wore a gray suit. He didn’t take any champagne. He walked slowly up my driveway, stopped at the foot of the porch, and looked up at me.
He didn’t say anything. He just nodded, once. Then he went and stood at the very back of the crowd, under the live oak, with his hands in his pockets.
At 4:20, a long black car pulled into the driveway.
The whole crowd turned.
Someone started clapping. Then everyone was clapping.
The back door opened, and
